


The Spirit of the Occasion

by SonGoharotto



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, May/December Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-08 09:31:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19104391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonGoharotto/pseuds/SonGoharotto
Summary: While everybody else enjoys the wedding reception, Mako and Chief Beifong get to know each other a little better.





	The Spirit of the Occasion

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted from [two](http://songoharotto.tumblr.com/post/106383617303) [parts](http://songoharotto.tumblr.com/post/106482640993) on [my Tumblr]().

Mako watched The Avatar walk away from him and it didn't sting.

Maybe he had grown up a little. When it came to looking out for Bolin, it was always necessary for Mako to be the adult, but falling in love with Korra years ago pierced the fragile shell of his macho self-image. Mako knew he'd handled things between them badly, but they were in a good place again, as friends and comrades.

What a long, strange journey it has been. From street rat to pro-bender to cop; he's seen so many incredible events, done so many crazy things, and met so many amazing people. Watching his little bro dance with Opal Beifong, surrounded by cherished loved ones, gave Mako a feeling of wholeness that he hadn't experienced since the two brothers lost their parents.

It was almost enough to make him forget the damnable itching under these bandages. Almost.

Mako ambled around the perimeter of the pavilion, enjoying the festive atmosphere. No one was taking notice of him and that was also strangely good. He'd been at the center of the action for a while now. A little less excitement was in order.

Moving without aim, Mako eventually happened upon Lin Beifong. Holding a half-full champagne flute, she too was inhabiting the periphery while others celebrated. This was not unforeseen, as the Chief of Republic City's Police Department and Metalbender Corps could be described in many ways, but 'personable' was not among them.

Even so, Mako was pretty sure he saw the faintest tiny smile on her austere face.

“Hey, Chief.”

“Officer Mako.”

Like himself, Lin didn't have any particular desire to socialize. Given her relative proximity to the open bar, as well as the variety of escape routes that Mako was able to case – instincts honed more by years on the streets than on the force – he could tell the Chief was planning to slip away unobserved, sooner rather than later.

“So . . . that was a nice ceremony, huh?” When there was no reply, Mako changed tack. “And you're looking pretty sharp, Chief. That suit really brings out your eyes.”

Lin drained the last of the bubbly beverage in her glass, then leveled her trademark 'I don't have time for this' look at her subordinate.

“Small talk isn't your strong suit, lover boy. I can see why you've been dumped by two of the prettiest women at this party. Now the question is, why exactly are you trying to butter me up? Because if you're looking for a third conquest, I'm going to need a lot more to drink.”

The Chief's frank take-down would have caused the old Mako to wither and make excuses, but this new and improved Mako was able to take it in stride.

“To business then,” he began crisply. “I have it on good authority that Prince Wu is dropping out of politics for private enterprise. Now that the regional tensions have stabilized, he's not likely to need a dedicated bodyguard anymore, so I was thinking—”

“I'll talk to President Raiko about getting you reassigned to your old beat, patrolman. You're a war hero by all accounts, so it'd be a waste of your talents to leave you shackled to that tone deaf fop.”

“I'm pleased that you agree, Chief. In regards to my returning to normal duties—”

“Still not making you a detective yet. You've proven that you have good instincts and the necessary skills, but seniority counts and I have other officers in line for pinions.”

'Pinions' was a reference to the primary feathers of the noble hawk-moth, a detail unique to the badge of RCPD detectives, which symbolized patience, attentiveness, and swift action. The young firebender was honest enough with himself to acknowledge that he possessed at best two out of those three valued qualities.

This was not the exact outcome Mako had been hoping for, but was better than it could have gone, so in the balance of things, he chalked this up as a win. When one of the waiters dressed as Nuktuk (Hero of the South) glided by with a fresh tray of champagne, Mako smoothly scooped up two glasses with his good hand and presented them to his superior.

“Setting that matter aside; here you go, Chief. In the spirit of the occasion!”

His abrupt cordiality may have startled the older woman, because Lin stiffened like a board. This prompted Mako to question whether he had overstepped the bounds of propriety, but while he stood there reviewing his manners, Chief Beifong's face softened.

The expression she made then was an enigma. The narrow slant of her eyes over those high cheekbones gave the impression of a predatory feline sizing up its prey. Mako experienced the base instinctual terror of having entered dangerous territory.

Lin's lips drew a tight line as she swept a few strands of iron gray hair out of her face. Then she accepted a flute from Mako and downed it in one long pull.

Upon swallowing, she said simply, “Cheers.”

“Um, yeah.”

Mako took a sip himself and wondered if running away would trigger a pounce, or if he should try to defuse the tension . . . but he didn't have to.

“How is your, uh, arm thing, anyway?” Lin asked with uncharacteristic concern. “Is that going to get in the way of doing your job? Because I can't have one of my best officers making the rounds if he isn't one hundred percent.”

Although they came out in a clipped tone, her words assuaged Mako's fears enough that he could relax.

“It's not as bad as it looks; thanks for asking. The army medic who took care of me said I'll have permanent scars, but I should regain full dexterity. All this is just so I don't overexert myself while it finishes healing.”

Mako raised his left arm out of its sling and wiggled his bandaged fingers, suppressing a wince.

“Itches like you wouldn't believe, though.”

“Oh. Well. I'm glad. Not about the itching, I mean. Nevermind.”

Chief Beifong turned on her heels and marched over to the bar, her black dress shoes click-clacking on the courtyard flagstones. Mako figured that was the last of the awkwardness he would have to endure for the evening. He was wrong, because the woman returned in short order, a sizable flask of rice wine and two cups in hand.

“Now you're going to have a real drink with me, patrolman. In the spirit of the occasion, of course.”

“Thanks, Chief, but I haven't finished my champagne.”

“Then finish it. And come with me,” she added with the same commanding voice she used for issuing orders. And demanding reports. And most of her interactions with other people, truth be told.

“Oooh~kay. To your health?”

Mako gulped his champagne until it was gone, feeling the bubbles go right to his head. He shook it off and set the glass onto an unoccupied table, hoping the Chief's choice of refreshment was of the mild variety. He fully expected to be wrong about that as well.

 

 

 

“—and wouldn't you know it, Hasook whiffs it big time. Right over the Tigerdillos' captain's head. Like, even I could waterbender better than that and—and I'm a firebender!” Mako was saying, rather redundantly. He knew it too, but the fine rice wine made him care not so much. “Fucking Hasook! Anyway, we still won, because I'm awesome. I know because Bolin told me so.”

“Right, I was listening to that match.”

“You—what? You actually followed our matches?”

“Not the Fire Ferrets specifically, but I've never been much of a music lover, so pro-bending gave me something to listen to during late hours filling out paperwork. You'll remember I advocated for the championship match to go on, after the Equalists' threat to attack.”

“Yeah, I do remember! The cops were supposed to provide extra security too. That worked out great, by the way.”

There was a momentarily lull in the conversation when Mako poured himself another cup of wine. It didn't take long for the tiny dish to fill and it was about then that he realized what had just come out of his mouth. He fumbled and dropped the flask, spilling what little was left in the grass between them.

“Chief, I'm sorry! That wasn't—I didn't mean—”

“Open mouth, insert foot.”

Lin tipped her cup and appeared to be savoring the warm wine as it went down, though whether she more enjoyed the beverage or Mako's embarrassed stammering, he couldn't say. She let him go on like that for a bit, before waving a dismissive hand.

“Forget it, I admit we were careless,” Lin began. “And I know that was just the wine talking. Or mostly the wine talking. It's kind of cu— _ahem_! That is, you've been under me— _working_ under me for almost four years now, so I've gotten used to it. And I think I've had just about enough to drink.”

After ditching the party, Mako and Lin settled at a quiet spot on the cliffs of Air Temple Island that had a pretty good view of the new Spirit Portal in the heart of downtown Republic City.

This was only the second time he'd seen the Chief genuinely relaxed. Buzzed like he was, Mako wasn't quite so weirded out now. She'd quickly forgiven his gaffe, so that was a definite improvement. He even thought that maybe, just maybe, Lin Beifong knew how to have fun.

Lin leaned against the boulder at their backs and was taking slow, measured breaths. Mako might have thought she was going to doze off, if he hadn't see the twinkle of one eye peeking at him through a gray fringe.

Both cops were sitting on their jackets. Mako was mildly surprised that Chief Beifong owned any clothes aside from her officer's uniform and armor, assuming she hadn't borrowed this outfit from her more stylish sister. The conservative gown hugged Lin's stout figure. Shoes set aside, her stocking-clad toes curled in the trimmed grass.

Lin had the sort of rugged features which were usually called 'handsome' on a woman, but under the starlight and distant golden portal's glow, Mako decided that she was still quite fetching, objectively speaking. Subjectively speaking, he thought she was probably a babe in her younger days, but Mako didn't say that out loud either.

“Um, Chief?”

“I said forget it, you don't have to apologize.”

“No, it's just . . . I spilled the wine and this is the last cup. Do you, uh, do you want it?”

Mako offered his boss the tiny dish. Lin turned her whole body so that she was leaning towards him. The dark green throat of her gown was ever so slightly transparent, Mako noticed, and he found himself looking down her bodice.

“ . . . just about enough,” Lin seemed to whisper to herself.

Rather than plucking the cup out of his grip, she wrapped her hand around his and drew everything towards her mouth.

Feeling Lin Beifong's lips on his fingers as she accepted the drink was like a splash of cold water in the face. She wasn't breaking eye contact. The now-empty cup fell away, but she didn't let him go. Flushed from drink, the woman's face wore that same puzzling expression as before.

Mako noticed a dribble had spilled from the corner of her mouth. Looking back, he wouldn't be able to explain what impulse drove him to do this: He wiped the wine off the Chief's chin with his thumb . . . and then pressed it between her lips.

She immediately bit him.

“Yeeee-ow!”

Lin climbed to her feet and reached down, grabbing Mako's collar, then dragged him to standing as well. Not bothering to collect their discarded outer garments first, the older woman led her young subordinated deeper into the Air Temple compound.

“I know those acolyte dorms are around here somewhere,” she muttered.

While never exactly bustling, the long wood-floored halls were deserted at this time of night. Everyone was at the wedding reception, and even before then, most of the acolytes were occupying the old Air Temples to support peacekeeping activities.

Apparently satisfied with the first empty bed chamber they chanced upon, Lin pushed Mako inside and closed the doors behind them. She paused and groused, “Right, no locks. Stupid Air Nomad philosophy nonsense.”

“Whoa, Chief! L-Let's talk about this,” Mako suggested, equal parts terrified and excited. “You sure you really want to—isn't this a bad idea? We can't—I'm not ready for a relationship!”

Lin rounded on him. It looked as though preparing a lecture wouldn't distract her from her increasingly obvious intentions. A curt gesture that she made behind her back set off a string of small pops; she was metalbending the fasteners of her gown apart.

“Let me clear something up, Mako: If I was looking for a 'relationship', I wouldn't have invited _you_ to drink with me. You're a damn fine-looking young man and that's the extent of the use I have in mind for you right now.”

Her gown slid down with some further coercion and Lin stepped out of it, leaving it rumpled on the floor like a cheap rag. Beneath her party clothes, Lin had on lingerie of humble styling but which suited her athletic build; a garter belt and suspenders held up her stockings. What she may have lacked in the suppleness of youth compared to Mako's previous romantic pursuits was more than compensated for by the defined figure of a mature woman.

With the only light coming in from the window at the young man's back, he both did-and-didn't want to step to the side so he could get a better look.

“Let's set some ground rules: First, we may be off-duty, but I'm still your boss. You will continue to address me as Chief Beifong, but just Chief or ma'am will suffice. Don't ever call me Baby Girl, Sweetie Pie, or whatever else the kids say these days.”

Lin was almost right up against him now. Voice husky, her pale eyes burned with intensity.

Mako's left arm dropped; she had unclasped the sling. He tugged at his cravat, ostensibly to loosen it, but despite being pinned in place, it somehow ended up coming off entirely. He was feeling a little lightheaded, perhaps because the blood was rushing to another part of his anatomy.

“Second, you will not take my advances as grounds to expect professional favors. You could make me cum until my hair falls out, but that still won't kick you to the front of the line for a detective's shield.”

Left hand bandaged, Mako took up the challenge of unhooking Lin's bra with only his right. Her hands had worked down the buttons of his vest and shirt. She lightly fingered the star burst-shaped scar tissue that marked where electricity had passed through his solar plexus and barely missed his heart.

“And third, there will be absolutely no ki—”

But Mako was already moving in and he covered Lin's mouth with his own. He could taste the rice wine on her lips and tongue and breath. His hands caressed the woman's back, sliding from shoulder to hip. She felt like a coiled spring, tense and hard as steel.

Lin grabbed a handful of Mako's swelling loins and her touch was less gentle. Then with a grunt, she gave him a shove.

The back of Mako's knees hit the edge of a bunk and he reflexively sat. Lin got right down to work on opening the fly of her subordinate's best pants. Seeing his commanding officer on her knees between his legs, licking her lips in anticipation, was thrilling. Pants yanked down, the proof of Mako's arousal required little help making its presence known.

There was no grace or delicacy to Lin Beifong's technique. She slurped him up noisily, her tongue assaulting the head of Mako's manhood while calloused hands worked the balls and shaft – what she couldn't fit into her mouth, anyway. Her cheeks sucked in with each upstroke and she purred heading back down.

Groaning appreciatively, Mako made to stroke Lin's hair, but she batted him away like an annoyed cat.

He popped out of her mouth and she started taking long licks up his underside. One set of fingers teased the tip. The others reached into his loose shorts, massaging the soft spot behind a tightening sack. Wet pink lips shone in the moonlight, meeting in something like a kiss each time they reached swollen glans.

Mako had no idea his boss could make such an unbelievably lewd expression. His breath quickened at the sight of her.

“Ch-Chief, I'm going to . . !”

Lin sat back on her heels and stroked Mako with just one hand to finish him off. He was thrusting into her grip now, while she watched with a clinical interest.

Mako came, and Lin's pale eyes tracked the arc of his release. Due to the angle at which she held him, Mako's own torso and clothes bore the brunt, though Lin's hand still came away sticky when he was finally spent. Her pursed lips curled into a little smile.

It became evident that Lin wasn't about to 'clean up'. The beds in this dorm were bare mattresses, no sheets or pillows, so Mako had no option but to peel off his shirt to wipe himself.

Shame was starting to take root in Mako's mind; the feeling like what had happened was something other than a purely consensual act between adults. He was just making up his mind to beg forgiveness and then resign from the force in disgrace, when Lin placed a hand on Mako's shoulder.

Leaning onto him for support, Lin very deliberately lifted one well-toned leg, planted her knee at his side, then followed suit with the other, straddling him. Now that she had his full attention again, Mako saw that the Chief's other hand was busy at the darkening crotch of her sodden panties. Strong fingers splayed, showing strands of moisture in the moonlight, then resumed their furious rubbing.

Transfixed, the young man joined his touch with hers. At a point over his head, Lin gasped. Mako watched the muscles of her arm and stomach flex with their combined motions.

Ever so slowly, the older woman sank onto her subordinate's lap. Mako shivered when the wet material of Lin's panties brushed his still-sensitive erection. However much it ached, he knew the Chief was not about to relent. Mako hooked his thumb in Lin's panties and tugged them aside, raking through a tuft of dewy fur. She guided him into place with slick digits.

The unexpected lovers moaned as one.

That such an outwardly cold woman could be so incredibly hot on the inside shouldn't have been shocking to Mako. Moreover, she enveloped him completely, riding down his full length to the stem with ease.

Lin rolled her hips, beginning in low gear. Mako caressed the stocking-clad thighs and watched the delightful undulations of her taut belly. She picked up speed and started to pant. Shapely arms encircling his shoulders, her head came down so that her temple was against his cheek. Their damp disheveled hair, gray and black, stuck to each other.

Mako wasn't sure if Lin didn't want to look him in the face or was just that intent on her motions. He decided to flip the script. He lifted the older woman up and then laid her on her back, putting himself in the dominant position.

The scowling Chief looked like she was about to read him the riot act, but when Mako took up the rhythm, her mouth promptly closed. Giving as good as he got, the young officer bore down with all the vigor he could muster. He plunged hard into Lin's womanhood, subtly altering his angle of attack in a trick he picked up from a previous paramour so that each stroke dragged across her clitoris.

The older woman ground the back of her head into the mattress, teeth gritted and groaning lustily. Her fingers were like claws across Mako's back, scratching him just shy of drawing blood, or so he hoped. Head bowed, he kissed at beads of sweat between Lin's breasts, and could feel his limit approaching again.

“Chief, ha~h . . . Chief, maybe I should pull out . . ?”

Lin's legs clamped around Mako's hips like a vice. Tendons stood out on her arched neck.

She growled, “Don't—You—Dare—I'm—Almost—”

The familiar pressure was building and Mako's anxiety grew proportionally. Despite his earlier exertions, he could tell this wouldn't be a minor event. Suffice to say, the consequences of this little misadventure could be dire, especially where Chief Beifong was concerned.

Mako tried to slow his pace, but Lin was having none of it. There was only one thing he could think of to get his boss's mind back on track. His right arm was pinned beneath the older woman's body, but the bandages on his left had unwound in the tussle, so he reached up to stroke his lover's cheek. The twin scars there felt deep and painful under his fingers.

The woman's head whipped down and her expression was a thundercloud.

“ _How dare you_ —!”

“Lin, listen to me–”

Neither got to finish their sentence. As soon as Mako said her name, Lin climaxed. Her eyes rolled back, mouth gaping, but no sound came out. The sudden crushing pressure around Mako's rod was the last straw and he blew his load for the second time that night. He collapsed upon her breast, utterly exhausted.

The two lay in silence for a while, sounds of the party outside drifting in through the open window. A cheer went up, followed by applause and the clinking of glasses.

Mako felt Lin's faint touch across his back, over his shoulder, and travel on. He lifted his head to seek the older woman's eyes, which were closed. Her fingertips were tracing the scars that crept and branched along Mako's forearm and hand like ivy, marking him forever. They had this in common, these badges of service and sacrifice.

“Chief,” he began, but the woman shushed him.

“Lin. You can call me Lin.” She exhaled in a great whoosh that ruffled his hair. “But only . . . when we're alone.”

She wasn't angry. Mako had the decency to feel guilty about the sense of relief that washed over him. The thought that they might have occasion to meet like this again raised a different kind of emotion that Mako couldn't put a name to. It wouldn't be accurate to call it love; this was a woman he deeply respected and admired. For now, this might be good too. However . . .

“What about—”

“One thing at a time, Mako.”

Lin sat up and the young man was obliged to follow suit. Clearly, she wasn't a cuddler.

Backlit by the Moon, her hair glowed an ethereal silver. The tender regard on her face shaved away the years and, for just a moment, Lin Beifong looked like a vulnerable girl. It passed quickly.

“Don't look at me like I'm some kind of doe-eyed debutante,” she sneered, although her inflection lacked its usual bite. “I'm—I expect strict professionalism outside—that is, when we're not . . . Y-You tell no one! And _Spirits help you_ if you make a slip about this at the precinct!”

“Yes, ma'am,” Mako replied with a salute. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

It looked like his life wasn't going to be lacking in excitement for a while yet.

 


End file.
